


The Value of Teamwork - 2002

by Arizonacolleen



Series: Sophie Hollander Guinevere Series [6]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: 2002, F/M, Paris (City), Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:43:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arizonacolleen/pseuds/Arizonacolleen
Summary: Sophie has been an agent for ten years now, and lends a good friend her assistance as she faces changes with her beloved.





	1. Chapter 1

Sophie walked along the Rue de Sevigne, her trench belted tightly. She had felt low the entire day, and she tried to remind herself that though the process of her work was sometimes base, the nature of it was noble. Still, she wondered if any of the other Kingsmen felt cheap at the end of their day. _I will never give Arthur that satisfaction,_ she resolved. She stopped, looking up at the sky and closing her eyes. She missed London terribly - not something her younger self would have imagined possible. Ten years had passed so damn fast.

She took a deep breath settling on her route when she saw him. Standing two blocks away, Galahad watched her. Sophie felt both longing and panic: what did his presence mean? Had she been exposed? Her eyes locked on him as she continued to the small grocer and stepped inside. “Bonsoir Monsieur” she said warmly, making her way to the back of the store to examine the cooler and wait. “What are you doing here?” she whispered when she felt his presence beside her, “Am I compromised?” Galahad reached for an apple juice and stepped by her, “I needed to see you.” he replied.

This puzzled Sophie, who angrily breathed, “What are you talking about? Do you have intel? What’s going on?” Sophie turned when she received no response, exposing her blackened eye to Galahad, who couldn’t resist reaching out to caress her cheek. Sophie stepped back, passing him and walking to the counter. She paid for her fruit and newspaper, thanked the cashier and exited the store. She took a right and began walking quickly down the small side street. Galahad made a purchase for show, and emerged from the store looking for where she could have headed. He started back toward his apartment when an arm reached out, pulling him inside an enclave. 

“What are you doing here?” Sophie demanded, “Do you have any idea...ANY idea the danger you have put me in?” Having no acceptable explanation to his behavior, Galahad leaned in, kissing her before she broke from him and slapped him hard. “Eighteen months I’ve worked on this, Galahad. You know you cannot do this.” Sophie was shaking in her anger, which only made Harry want to comfort her more. The sting in his cheek warned him to refrain from any such action though, and he thought better of it. As he rubbed his cheek, considering this, his gaze connected with Sophie. She stared back at him, still expecting a full explanation. As his expression fell blank, she sighed and turned to the metal door in the corner of this small enclave.

“Well, come along.” She said as she entered the door. Behind the door was a service elevator which opened to a set of stairs. Sophie said nothing to Harry, but held her shoe to the door as the lock released and the door opened. As they entered the safe house and Sophie locked them in and checked the security, Harry realized how proficient she was at extracting even him. He has never seen her work from this side before, and he was immediately ashamed of his intrusion. “Well, I can leave from here in a few hours. The phone from my flat is forwarded,” she explained, “it is imperative that you do not answer it.” 

“I know how this works.” Harry confirmed.  
“Do you?” Sophie countered coldly. They said nothing to one another, and the silence filled the air like smoke. Sophie sighed, and went to the small kitchen to prepare coffee to pass the time. As she keyed access codes into the counter top, Harry removed his coat and placed it onto the coat rack. As Sophie struck a match to light the small stove, Harry gently reached around her to remove the belt and retrieve her coat. Sophie stopped his hands, squeezing them as she kept her back to him. Harry stopped, waiting for her as she loosened the belt and opened the trench. As Harry lowered it from her shoulders he saw the bruising extending from her neck and down her back. 

“Oh Canary.” He said softly. Sophie focused on the kettle and kept her face turned from him, “Nature of the job,” she said cheerily, “You weren’t supposed to see any of this.” Sophie sniffed, lifted the kettle and then set it back in place absentmindedly when the phone rang. Sophie walked over to it, placing a finger to her lips as she lifted the receiver. After listening for several minutes, she responded. “Je comprends. Je serai là à l'aube pour déplacer le produit.” She said, replacing the receiver. She went to the panel screen, entering the drop information to report back to Kingsman HQ. With the report sent, she walked over the couch where Harry sat. 

“I’m sorry. I saw your face at your last briefing and I just came.” Harry admitted, “I didn’t think, and I didn’t involve anyone else.” He rubbed his face, “I never thought about seeing you like that, and now I see it is because you are truly great at what you do that I never have.” Sophie grabbed his tie, pulling him to a stand as she studied his face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to accept it though,” he admitted. Harry took her face in his hand, his expression pained as he closely examined it. His thumb brushed her lips and Sophie shuddered. Releasing his tie, she held the back of his neck and pulled him to her. 

A tiny whimper escaped Sophie as Harry found her hungry mouth. With her angry worry subsided and her work done, she could now acknowledge the deep longing in her for her beloved. Harry wanted to embrace her and pull her tightly to him, but the knowledge of her deep bruising made him reluctant to harm her further. Sophie grabbed the tie and pulled him along as she backed to the wall. Harry reluctantly kissed her bruised neck and held her shoulders. “What’s wrong?” Sophie asked. Harry stammered, unsure how to answer at first. “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable on the sofa?” He offered, “I just don’t want to hurt you, perhaps the sofa would be easier.” 

“We only have a few hours before I have to return to return to my mission,” she reminded him, “I intend to have you in several places.” Harry straightened at the insinuation, a slight blush rising in his cheeks as she continued, “Don’t deny me this.” Sophie reached for Harry’s hand, running it up her thigh and she leaned up and kissed him. Harry reached her panties and gently squeezed as he lifted her opposite leg and pinned her to the wall. As she kissed him, she felt him pulling her panties away and she wrapped her arms around him for support. “And Harry?” she asked as he nuzzled her neck, “Don’t ever do something so dangerous to us again.” 

 

Two months had passed when Harry was alerted to a disturbance at his residence. He returned to find a trail of clothes leading from the foyer to the bedroom, and gently pushed the door to find Sophie. She had wrapped herself in his sheet, sprayed the pillow with his cologne and was fast asleep. Harry’s eyes shined as he looked on her, “I missed you too,” he whispered as he quietly closed the door and collected her clothes. Harry called Merlin, who confirmed Guinevere had left the field with her report made in full some three hours before. “She’s likely already on her decompression.” Merlin commented. Harry looked at the clothes in his arms, “I hope it’s a long one,” he remarked, “she’s earned it.”

Sophie stirred, moaning softly as she turned over and brushed her auburn curls from her face. She blinked a few times when her eyes focused on the small note beside the fob which read, “press me.” She smiled as she lifted the fob and pressed the button before grabbing the duvet and pulling it over her head. “You rang?” Harry asked from the door. From under the duvet, Sophie replied, “I was instructed.” She lifted her cover to see him standing in the doorway with champagne. He was wearing a striped shirt with maroon braces and he looked devastatingly handsome. He set the flute on the bedside table and sat at the end of the bed as Sophie sat up.

“You spoil me.” She admitted as she took a sip of the champagne, which spilled gloriously into her mouth, “Thank you.” Harry said nothing, a queer smile on his face as he watched her. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, and she closed her eyes as she rubbed against his hand. “How long was I asleep?” She asked as she finished the champagne. Harry stood and accepted the glass, “Several hours. Are you hungry?” Sophie’s eyes settled on the notion before she admitted, “Yes, actually. Very.” She looked around for her clothes when Harry offered, “I can offer you my pajamas.” Sophie looked up at him, “Taking your clothes as well?” She asked playfully. 

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Harry replied as he retrieved pajamas from the bureau, “I like you wearing my pajamas.” He set them on the bed and then left her to change in privacy. While Sophie crept up the stairs to the sitting room, Harry was hard at work in the kitchen. She sat on the sofa, and enjoyed the soft evening breeze when Harry returned and refilled her flute and returned to the kitchen. “I have your favorite film in the player.” He called happily as Sophie sipped her champagne. “The champagne, dinner and my favorite film?” She remarked, “Whatever is the occasion?” Harry brought her the tray and handed her the napkin, “You are the occasion.” he said silkily. Sophie glowed, taking the napkin as she replied, “How do you always have such a clever response?”

Harry turned to start the film as she tucked in, “Because I have a lot of time to think of them.” He admitted. Sophie chewed slowly, the sadness of his sentiment not lost on her. “I was given a month to decompress.” She offered, “I’ll be here at least a month. In London, I mean.” Harry looked back to her and they shared a grateful look before the film’s score broke the spell. He softened the lights and joined her on the sofa as she finished her pasta. Sophie stood, disregarding Harry’s objection to her taking her tray down to the kitchen. She returned and cuddled close to Harry’s chest, drawing her feet onto the sofa and he kissed her temple as they watched Gene Kelly romance Judy Garland to “You Wonderful You” in the darkness.

“I don’t know why I’m so tired,” Sophie said as she stretched in bed, “All I have done today is sleep it seems.” Harry watched her as he carefully folded his trousers over the oak butler. He returned his cufflinks and tie to their places as he did every evening, only with a blissful pride on this evening in her company. As he rounded the bed and peeled back the duvet, Sophie rubbed her feet under she covers, “This bed is so comfy,” she commented, “Maybe I should stay for a while.” Harry climbed into bed and turned to brush noses, “Do.” He requested, kissing her slowly. Sophie unbuttoned the pajama top, letting it fall open as she felt Harry explore her mouth. How she had missed everything about this man.

Harry gently leaned into Sophie, letting her shift and recline back onto the bed as he found her wrists and brought them over her head. He looked deeply into her eyes as he lifted and traced his hands back down to her shoulders and then kissed her chest. He rested his cheek against her as if listening to her heartbeat as his hands slipped under the small of her back. Sophie lifted her hips and hugged her knee to his side as he lifted and placed small kisses on her collarbone. Sophie ran her hands through his hair as she felt him free a hand and reach into his boxers. “Oh, thank God,” she gasped as she felt him slowly enter her. He kissed her passionately and she hugged tightly to him as he sank deeply into her. 

Sophie seldom spoke beyond a low moan as they made love. Harry understood that with the work so often relying on false performance the truest intimacy she could give was to surrender herself completely, and without performance. Still, as she held to his broad shoulders and her body arched into his, her intensity smoldered in a way that drove Harry wild with desire for her. He scooped under her knee, holding her as he made slow deliberate strokes and pressed his forehead to hers. “Oh, Harry…” she whispered, lightly drawing her nails down his back as she found and nibbled his earlobe, “roll over.”

Harry lifted, delighted at her instruction as he released her knee and lifted her so he could shift below. Sophie straddled him, leaning forward to guide him back and then leaned back to take him completely inside her. They both gave a gratifying sigh as she sat upright, and he laced his fingers into hers to give her stability as she lifted from her knees before grinding into him in rhythm. Sophie’s hair fell across her face as she looked down at Harry, “Is that ok?” She asked meekly, as she rocked back and forth over him. Harry stared up at her, drawing his hands from her and taking command of her hips to guide her over him. Relief washed over Sophie as she looked to the ceiling. She spread her legs wider and bucked in one long slow complete motion as she came.

As she caught her breath, she leaned forward and rested on his chest, exhausted. Harry held her, enraptured as he felt her heart pound against him. “Canary,” he sighed, kissing her hand, “what you do to me…” Sophie adored that pet name, and kissed his chest. She rolled onto her side and he held her close to him in the darkness. “I love when you call me that.” She admitted with a soft, girlish chuckle. “I should call you Aphrodite,” he replied with a yawn, “I find love in everything you do.” Sophie said nothing, listening to him slip into sleep as he held to her. 

 

Harry tied his tie as he did every morning, but this morning he turned his back to the mirror to indulge a long gaze at Sophie as she slept. Her face was turned away and covered in her chestnut hair, and she lay on her stomach with her pale back exposed to him. Harry dare not sit on the bed for fear of stirring her from her sleep but he did linger as he dressed on this day before gently lifting the sheet and laying it across her shoulders. He collected his shoes and crept from the room quietly. Harry had never considered how much he would like waking beside her, their relationship terms having been set so many years ago without this possibility. Yet, just the thought of her in his bed, warm and sleepy, brought a smile to his face the remainder of the day.

It wasn’t until lunch that he received a chirp and recognized her through his communicator. Switching it on, Sophie popped up cheerily, “I do hope I’m not interrupting.” Harry set his water glass down and cleared his throat, “Not at all,” he responded, “I was just thinking of you.” Sophie stretched, “I should go by my flat, but I was unsure about locking yours correctly.” Harry straightened, his expression crestfallen, “You’re not leaving already are you?” he asked. His tone showed only fleeting concern, and Sophie missed it as she replied, “Well, I need clothes and some sundries. A good jump bag should do, and perhaps my train case.” Harry quickly responded, “I’ll collect them. You continue to rest. Worry not.” 

Sophie stood, stretching and ambled lazily toward the bureau, admiring her figure in the mirror, “As long as you don’t mind. There is a blue, black, green, and pink one in my closet. Just grab the pink one as well as my train case in the washroom.”  
Harry smiled, “Consider it done. I’ll have them for you when I return. Are you enjoying yourself?” He inquired sweetly. Sophie made a face as she looked at her reflection, “I’ve been so tired.” She admitted, “You’re going to lose interest in me now that I’m getting old.” Harry rolled his eyes, “I seriously doubt that” he remarked. Sophie grinned as his comment, “Thank you Galahad.” She said, closing the call.

When Harry returned that evening, bags in hand, he found Sophie wearing his camel and cashmere cardigan, and nothing else, as she reclined on the sofa reading. “I hope you don’t mind,” she explained, “I had to improvise.” Harry said nothing for a few moments, his expression vacant as he admired her. “I brought your cases,” he offered, “They are in the bedroom.” Sophie closed her book and stood, granting a kiss to Harry’s cheek as thanks and holding close to his shoulders when he produced a note card for her. “I thought a nice day at the Berkeley Spa would leave you rejuvenated, feeling…” he offered, “as lovely and youthful as I know you to be.” Sophie accepted the card, speechless. “Thank you my love.” she said softly.

Later that evening, Harry lifted a dress from her case as Sophie splashed lightly from the bathtub. He placed the item on a hanger before making space in the closet for her. Sophie sank beneath the water, feeling it flow up and over her face as she pulled her fingers through her hair. The water was scented with French lavender and the warmth felt wonderful against her skin. She emerged slowly, pushing the water away from her face as she moaned softly and from the bedroom she could hear Harry humming as he placed her undergarments into the top right drawer of his bureau. Sophie paused, drawing her knees up to her chest, listening to Harry as he worked.

Sophie rested her cheek against her knee, listening to the quiet shuffle from the other room as she turned over the events since she returned to London. She loved the quiet here. She could forget just about anything here, and for a moment Sophie wondered if Harry felt the same need for sanctuary after his missions. She wondered if there was a reason she never talked about the work with him, but knew that the need to keep the two separate was intense within her. It was enough that he understood what she did, she resolved. Her thinking was interrupted with a gentle knock at the door. “Fancy a cup of tea?” Harry asked softly. Sophie pulled the plug and stood to step out on the mat. “Lovely. I’ll be just a moment.”

Harry lie awake with Sophie asleep against his chest. He wrapped a hand around her naked back and held her close, his mind turning over the events of the past days. He realized it was more than just his enjoying this break - he longed to return home and find her greeting him. For the first time in Harry’s life, he no longer wished to be a bachelor. He slipped a hand under Sophie’s and grinned as she gripped it. Sophie stirred, kissed his chest and mumbled, “I love you” before fading back to sleep while Harry stared up at the ceiling considering his feelings. Harry dreaded thinking of this time ending, and decided it was time to talk to Sophie about his feelings. He resolved to do so before slipping into sleep.

 

Sophie had a gorgeous day, beginning with total pampering at the spa. Polished and rejuvenated, she popped into Waitrose to collect supplies and returned to Harry’s to surprise him with a roasted dinner. Once the roast was in the oven and with the wine breathing in his decanter, Sophie slipped into her corset and drew her silk stockings up to the garters and buttoned them in place. She then stepped into her dress and zipped the side into place. With her hair and makeup added, she glowed as she stepped into her shoes and awaited his arrival. She admired his many framed specimen and studied the beauty of the butterflies when she heard the door, and lit up as she turned to greet Harry in the foyer.

Harry stopped as the door closed, taking in the view of his beloved as she turned and smiled at him. He stared in awe for a few seconds before throwing his umbrella into the rack and walking up to take her in his embrace. He consumed her in a deep and long kiss which she melted into with no resistance. As they finally parted, Sophie’s eyes remained closed as Harry admired her as he sniffed the air and looked up. “Is something burning?” He asked, as Sophie’s eyes snapped open. “Oh no!” she muttered, breaking from him as she made her through the dining room to the kitchen. As she pulled the oven door open, light smoke billowed out and she examined, defeated.

“I don’t understand it.” She explained, “I followed the recipe exactly. I mean, it’s just chemistry. I can build bombs any given day.” Harry looked from the dining room, his amusement clear. “Is that what you were doing?” He joked as he looked over her shoulder. Sophie shot him a look that made Harry leave the kitchen, “Gordon Bennett,” she said, closing the oven door in defeat. Sophie switched the oven off, her shoulders dropping as Harry interjected, “One cannot be perfection at all things,” he said sweetly, caressing her cheek with his palm and drawing his course thumb over her painted lips. “But,” he added silkily, “some do come very close…” Harry leaned in, kissing her with renewed intensity. He held her waist as she arched into him as they kissed before breaking to catch her breath. 

“Let’s go out for dinner,” he suggested, “Proper date.” Sophie touched her lips, contemplating his offer. “I don’t know, Harry…” she advised, “it’s not very discreet of us. What if we were seen together?” Sophie’s concern washed over her face as her smile faded, but Harry was resolute, “London is quite a large city, I doubt that will happen.” He countered, “If it does, we are two colleagues having a drink together. It happens all the time.” Sophie rolled her eyes, “Not with me it doesn’t” she admitted. Harry had known about her omission from many of the invitations extended among Kingsman but had hoped that the long missions had been the excuse for her exclusion. “Well, it will tonight.” he corrected.

They entered the Bombay Brasserie and were seated in a private corner, Harry taking her hand as the waiter poured the wine. The light was soft but warm, and Harry studied her face as she looked at the menu with his mind miles from dinner. “What do you think? Should we have a starter?” Sophie asked, “The ‘hara bater’ looks really good.” She looked up to meet his gaze and Harry replied, “Whatever you like.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the small box he had retrieved from his safety deposit box that afternoon. “Sophie…” he began, and was interrupted as the waiter approached to take their order. As they handed back the menu, Sophie turned to him and he began again.

“This week has been…” he began, a relieved look coming over him, “I had never considered what it would mean to mean to see you each day.” Sophie smiled and Harry kissed her hand as he continued, “The more I think about it, the more it seems like after all these years we should discuss where we are,” he nervously paused, “and what the future might hold.” Sophie looked at him with a queer expression as he retrieved the box and placed her hands around it. Sophie looked at the box for several moments, holding her breath as she opened it to see the delicate ring inside. “It was my mother’s.” Harry explained, and Sophie swallowed hard but said nothing. The table fell silent for a few moments before Sophie blinked a few times and replied, “How would this work? I mean, we couldn’t keep that secret. Would we tell everyone? What about when I’m away?” 

“Well,” Harry explained as he took her hand in his, “that wouldn’t be a problem if you retired.” Sophie pulled her hand away as she stared at him in shock. “It would solve a lot of problems.” Harry continued, “We could tell everyone and you could move in with me or we could take a house in the country.” Sophie gaze fell and she stared at the ring as she listened. “I will always take care of you. I love you,” he concluded, “and you’ve proven yourself to be a superb Kingsman. No one could challenge that if you retired.” Sophie closed the ring box, “Then why don’t you retire?” She asked, “Why don’t you retire instead of me?” Harry stared blankly back at her until they were interrupted with the arrival of their meal. Sophie placed her napkin in her lap and sipped her water with no emotion. The ring sat between them, ignored.

In fact, Sophie said nothing for the rest of the meal. She stood to retrieve her coat as he signed the check and he retrieved the ring and returned it to his pocket as he met her outside the restaurant. “Canary,” he soothed as he hailed a taxi, “Let’s talk about this.” He turned to her and pulled her close as the taxi pulled up in the queue, “I love you Sophie,” he implored, “be my wife.” He opened the taxi door and Sophie climbed in before he followed. Sophie looked out the window as she gathered her thoughts. “You are the love of my life.” She responded, turning to meet Harry’s grateful face, “But Kingsman is my life. Please don’t ask me to choose.” Harry blinked a few times, considering her remarks. “Is marriage never in our future?” He asked confused.

Sophie fought back tears as she felt his fingers lacing hers, “Why must anything change?” she challenged, “Even if we marry, why must I give parts of myself up?” She looked at him, searching for an answer when his frustration bested him and he answered, “Because you’ll be my wife. I’ll want you safe.” He touched her cheek, “Because it’s how things are done.” he explained. 

Sophie cleared her throat, turning her face from Harry. “Actually, I’m going to Fulham.” She announced. Harry looked heartbroken as the taxi driver replied, “Fulham, yes ma’am.” Sophie glanced back to Harry before concluding, “You’re just like all of them, aren’t you?” Harry released her hand and Sophie looked out the window as the taxi approached her neighborhood. 

The taxi pulled up a block from Sophie’s flat. “This is acceptable, thank you.” Sophie called, reaching into her purse. Harry stopped her, “I’ll take care of this.” He offered, “Please consider coming home with me. We can discuss this further, and I can explain myself better.” He nestled his nose in her hair and tears spilled from Sophie’s eyes as she hid her face from him. “I’ve made a disaster of this, and I’m truly sorry. Let me try to fix it.” Sophie swallowed hard to steady her nerves before replying, “Goodnight Galahad.” With that, she opened the door and stepped out of the taxi. She stood on the walk and watched it drive away with Harry inside it. He stared ahead, his heartbreak concealed but simmering inside.

She walked the block to her building, took the stairs up to her flat and inserted the key silently. Once inside, with the door closed safely behind her, Sophie slid down the door to the floor and crumpled as she wept loudly. She removed her heels, lay her cheek against the cold hardwood floor and shook, feeling more alone than she had in a decade.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lancelot asks for assistance, and a Kingsman never refuses the request of a fellow agent.

Sophie arrived at the shop at dawn, her train case in hand to meet Edwin and collect her bags. She stifled a yawn as she ascended the stairs and stopped at the entrance to the locker room. She hadn’t wasted any time answering Lancelot’s communication, and it had been mere hours since she watched Harry’s taxi drive away from her. Sophie rolled her neck and resigned herself that, as always, it was about the work. The work would see her through no matter how gutted she felt. Lancelot walked up, holding a cup in each hand as he extended one to her. “Is this coffee?” Sophie said gratefully. Lancelot smiled, “Black I’m afraid. I wasn’t sure how you take it.” 

Sophie sipped down the hot liquid quickly. “This is gorgeous,” she replied, “thank you very much.” Lancelot offered to take Sophie’s case as they continued to the transport. “I should be thanking you,” Lancelot continued, “offering to go on this mission has been a tremendous help, and on such short notice.” Sophie laid her palm on the mirror, allowing the floor to descend. “It’s really no problem at all.” She replied, “I don’t really enjoy taking the decompression. I’d rather be in the field.” Sophie returned to her coffee, and Lancelot considered her words in the silence. “I had heard you were tenacious.” Lancelot joked. Sophie raised her eyebrows innocently, saying nothing as she stepped through the door.

Safely seated in the transport, Sophie leafed through her copy of ‘Private Eye’ while Lancelot flipped through his notes. “We’ll be arriving as man and wife,” he explained, “Lord and Lady Davenport, Charles and Marian respectively.” Sophie closed her magazine, “Well, pleasure to meet you Charles. I look forward to our thoroughly convincing union.” She finished her coffee and cleared her throat, “We should start I suppose. How did we meet?” 

Lancelot grinned, amused by her method, “I figure we met at our St. Clare’s formal.“   
Sophie nodded, “Oxford? That’s impressive.”  
Lancelot replied, “Well we try.” 

Sophie’s smile grew. She had not considered how much she might enjoy working with Lancelot. She had always enjoyed his company, and the ease with which he carried himself, but when she took his communication on the floor of her flat her only thought was getting away from the way she felt. She now found herself looking forward to getting to work alongside a colleague, which was in itself a rare treat. She studied his features, committing to memory his little mannerisms which might serve their authenticity in the field. 

“So, is Marian a happily married woman?” Sophie asked, “Or might I be...available for comforting?”   
Lancelot looked up from his tablet, “Good question. I think Marian is quite happy with her husband, though there is some gossip that he married her for her money they are well matched.”  
“Am I wealthy? Old or new?” Sophie inquired.  
“New, though we never discuss it.” He replied.  
“Of course not.” Sophie agreed, “Quite right.”

The transport slowed to a stop and Sophie hooked her arm around Lancelot’s as they emerged, “Marian was probably completely taken in by such a handsome suitor those years ago.” She commented and Lancelot watched her. “Come along, Charles.” She instructed as she began walking. The bags were completely packed and ready for them to report to the flight. Sophie and Lancelot both collected and studied their identification, reading over the dates and studying the photographs. 

“Edwin made me 36,” Sophie commented annoyed, “I will be having a few words about that.” Lancelot laughed dryly, “Well, he’s in for it.” he soothed, “That’s no way to treat a clearly 27 year old.”   
Sophie grinned brightly, “Charles, you charmer.” she flirted. 

They grabbed their luggage and carried them out to the plane. “After you, Marian.” he said, handing the luggage over to the flight crew. Sophie settled into the leather chair, putting her game face on and focusing on the mission as Lancelot boarded. They both enjoyed an orange juice as they paired devices and compared notes. Lancelot leaned over, sniffing softly at her hair. “Chanel?” he asked. 

Sophie nodded, “It’s obvious but it’s a classic.”  
Lancelot lightly touched her hair, brushing it from her shoulder with his fingertips, “It suits you. You have a very classic look.” he said softly, “Stunning really.”  
Sophie looked down at her ensemble and frowned, “It’s not too mature, is it? I dressed for travel.”   
“Marian, you are a revelation.” Lancelot answered confidently. 

Sophie brushed her finger through his hair along the part and looked into his eyes. She paused before leaning in and kissing him softly. Lancelot let her her take control, an experience which surprised Sophie. She broke the kiss, looking back up as he smiled. “I must admit,” he said, “You are much better at that than any of the other Kingsman.”   
This made Sophie giggle, “One must do his duty.” she advised as she turned before Lancelot stopped her, “I’m not sure I’m up to speed.” He admitted, kissing her again. Blood rose in Sophie’s cheeks as he held her chin and placed a final soft kiss to break from her. 

“Charles is affectionate.” Sophie whispered.  
“I’m inspired.” Lancelot replied, “Eight years.”  
“What?” Sophie asked.  
“Married.” He explained. Lancelot grasped her hand, slipping a large ring onto it, “We’ve been married eight years.”

Sophie admired the ornate jewelry as Lancelot stood and paced, “No children?”   
Lancelot shrugged, “We aren’t finished having fun. Perhaps that’s why we are going away to France.”  
Sophie mocked scandal, covering her face in her hands but peeking through them at him.  
“You’re quite good at this.” he commented.  
“It’s almost as though I do it for a living.” Sophie supposed, blinking rapidly in sarcasm at the idea.

 

As the plane was arriving in France, Harry was arriving at the shop. He walked into the locker room, intending to leave a note for Sophie since his calls had been unanswered, “Quite a thing, isn’t it?” Merlin asked as he replaced his overcoat and closed the door. Harry backed from Sophie’s locker and turned to him, “Good morning Merlin,” he replied, “What is?” Merlin tapped at Sophie’s locker door, “She’s off this morning, assisting Lancelot of his cover mission to blow that smuggling ring in France.” Harry stared at him in surprise. “Took the call at one AM and was here by six I hear.” Merlin continued, “You’ve got to hand it to that one.” Harry nodded as Merlin walked away, pocketing his note as he absorbed the information.

 

Sophie arrived in the room, shedding her coat and opening her train case. Lancelot walked through and inspected the washroom. “Charles?” she called, “Do I need to be refreshed?”   
Lancelot looked out from the washroom as Sophie smoothed her dress and examined in the mirror. “You need nothing, Marian.” He answered lovingly. Sophie rested a hand on her midsection, “Except a spot of tea,” she admitted, “which would be glorious.” Lancelot threw his coat across the bed and extended his hand to her, “Say no more my bride!” He cried as she took it, and he pulled her to him and the door.

The tea salon in the abbey was beautiful and antique, with overstuffed chairs and large tapestries which served the exclusivity of the group well. Sophie sat with her ankles crossed as she selected the tea from the large list and allowed Lancelot to walk about, subtly photographing and mapping the area. “You must be Charles’ wife.” An older gentleman announced, “Please, don’t get up.” Sophie looked up from the menu to greet him, “I am!” she confirmed, “Lady Marian Davenport.” Sophie extended her hand, which the gentleman grasped but did not shake. 

The waiter appeared and Sophie turned to him, “Thѐ de Marco Polo Rouge s’il te plait.” She ordered, turning to the gentleman to confirm, “Deux...trois?” The gentleman smiled, taking a seat as Sophie returned to the waiter and confirmed, “Trois. Merci.” As the waiter took the menu and walked away, the gentleman introduced himself, “Well, my name is Ian Bale, and it’s my little mare you’re here to see.” He said proudly, “There are others in our club, of course, but there are no other horses like Nachtalbtraum.” Sophie chuckled, “That’s very clever,” she remarked, “it’s nightmare, isn’t it?” Sophie waved Lancelot over, patting the sofa beside her as he approached.

“You didn’t tell me we were here to see horses.” Sophie chided playfully as Lancelot kissed her cheek, “Please don’t be dour, dearest.” He replied, “It is still a lovely week in the countryside.” Ian looked between them before turning to Sophie, “Don’t tell me you don’t like horses?” He implored. Lancelot took her hand in his and explained, “My Marian is a tender spirit. She worries that the horses will come to harm.” This made Ian laugh as the tea arrived, “Well, let me assure you.” Ian said, “Once you see my mare you’ll see she was born to this.”  
“Actually,” Lancelot began, “my dear I think we might discuss some business.” Sophie looked between them before raising her hands in capitulation. “Say no more,” she replied, finishing her cup, “I’m off. Perhaps I’ll find the library.” The men stood as Sophie rose, and Lancelot placed a kiss at her cheek as she took leave of them. Ian and Lancelot both watched her walking away, “She’s splendid.” Ian complemented, and Lancelot grinned. “I’m a lucky man.” he replied, setting his cup down, “Any chance we could change this for a brandy?” Ian laughed, “You’ve read my mind old chap.” He returned his cup and touched Lancelot’s arm before walking to the bar.

 

Sophie wandered the halls innocently, mapping each corridor with her glasses as she walked. As she rounded the back staircase, she met three women chatting. “Oh!” she said with a start, ”Pardon me. I’m just looking for the library.” The women all turned to her curiously before an older woman in a smart country sweater set stepped forward. Sophie noted she was clearly the leader of the clique. “You must be the new arrival,” she surmised, “I’m Clarissa Bale.” Sophie smiled, “Are you Ian’s wife? We only just met.” Sophie extended her hand, “Lady Marian Davenport. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Clarissa shook her hand while the other women smiled, “This is Barbara Milton, everyone calls her Bunny, and this is Sharon Wentworth-Hall.” 

“And yes, she’s Ian’s wife.” Bunny confirmed. Sophie nodded, looking among the ladies. Sharon tapped her arm, “I know you were looking for the library,” she whispered, “but could we possibly corrupt you into joining us for a gin before dinner?” Sophie grinned slightly, shrugging her shoulders as the ladies laughed. “Why not?” she agreed, “Although I might slip away for an hour before dinner. I am so exhausted by the flight.” The ladies all nodded amongst each other and Bunny added, “All so the men can throw money after their horses.” The girls chuckled in agreement, leading the way to a small sitting parlor.

 

Lancelot returned to the room, creeping in to not disturb Sophie’s resting, only to find her sitting on the chaise very much alert. As he caught sight of her, Sophie raised a finger to her lips to stop his possible conversation. Lancelot tilted his head queerly, approaching as Sophie beckoned him with the same finger. As he sat beside her, Sophie pointed at the air circulation duct below the bed. “You can hear them.” she whispered. Lancelot tapped the end of his nose in comprehension, listening to the sound of snoring in the room. 

“Is that from next door?” he whispered.  
Sophie shook her head, pointing to her bedside table, “My tablet,” she responded.   
“Why do you have a recording of snoring?” Lancelot asked amused.  
“In case I need to kill someone.” Sophie replied softly, rising and directing him to the washroom.   
Once Lancelot entered the room, Sophie closed the door and began filling the bath, filling the room with the sound of flowing water. 

“What did you find?” she asked, “I was intercepted.”  
“Yes, Bunny was quite taken with you.” Lancelot acknowledged, “Nevertheless, the men wasted no time discussing the opportunities to invest in their organization.”  
“That idiot named his horse ‘night-nightmare’,” Sophie remarked dryly, “After dinner, I’ll pop out and plant the firewire.”  
Lancelot nodded, “Sounds perfect. I’m recording all our exchanges, and once we plant the bugs we will be set. Is there anything else you need?”  
Sophie thought for a moment before sweeping her hair from her neck, “Could you please unzip me?” she asked. Lancelot pulled her zipper down, allowing her to step out of the dress. Holding her dress and standing in her corset and stockings, she turned back to Lancelot, “Are we good?”  
Lancelot nodded, and Sophie stopped the tap and stepped past him to open the washroom door.

“So I’ll wear the green if that’s acceptable,” she said clearly, louder than before, “Charles? What do you think?”   
Lancelot stepped through, “I think you will be lovely no matter the frock,” he replied, “Do I have time for a short rest?”  
Sophie began laying out her jewelry, “Thirty minutes,” she replied, “Off with you.”   
Lancelot removed his jacket, stretching out across the bed as Sophie tucked her tools into her garters and checked her complexion. She was just finishing her hair and makeup when Lancelot stirred and walked to the bathroom for an evening shave and to freshen up. 

Sophie stepped into her shoes as he emerged, fresh and shirtless. He crossed to the wardrobe to change, lifting his tuxedo to her in thanks. Sophie placed her earrings, smiling in recognition. As they went to leave, Lancelot handed her a wrap from the wardrobe. They left the room together as man and wife, and just before reaching the dining room Lancelot took her hand. “Marian, but you are absolutely stunning.” He said, kissing her hand. Sophie blushed, more in need of the tenderness than she had considered. She touched his cheek and looked into his eyes when she heard the others approaching. “Marian, this is Alfred Milton, and you’ve met Bunny I believe.”

“You didn’t tell me your husband was so handsome!” Bunny gushed, walking to Sophie’s side.   
“Oh?” Sophie replied, “Well, some things are better experienced first hand.” Sophie winked at Lancelot as they were pulled into the dining room. After dinner everyone retired to the parlor for drinks and conversation. “So, any children?” Sharon asked, her husband tapping her. “She’s American, you must forgive her.” he interjected. Sophie sipped her port as Lancelot answered, “Well, not yet. We are still having so much fun.” He leaned against the arm of Sophie’s chair and continued, “Perhaps while we are on our holidays we could consider it.”

Sophie coughed mid-sip, which amused the rest of the crowd. “We’ve scandalized the poor girl.” Ian joked. Sophie replaced her glass and looked at her watch, “Actually, I hate to do this, but I think I must retire for the evening.” The crowd bemoaned but Sophie continued, “I’m honestly quite tired and a bit behind on my beauty regimen.”   
Alfred balked, “Nonsense.”   
Sophie stood and Lancelot rose to meet her, “Oh no, don’t let me spoil your night,” she soothed before whispering in his ear, “keep them here.” Lancelot met her gaze to confirm when Bunny remarked, “You know, sleepiness *is* a sign of something...maternal.” Sophie’s eyes went wide as she looked to the floor. “I’m just noting it.” she continued.

“Goodnight all.” Sophie said with a mild laugh, as she left the group.  
Once in the main hall, Sophie quickly made her way down to the study and to the server at the back of the room. Slipping behind the standing server, Sophie removed the tiny firewire usb and examined where to add it to the tower. Pushing the small fob into place discreetly, she grabbed an idle book from the shelf and made her way through the hall and back to the bedrooms. As she reached the room, a chambermaid passed by. 

“Pardon me,” Sophie inquired, “would it be possible to have a pot of chamomile tea?”   
The maid stopped and turned, “Absolutely. Would the Lady also care for biscuits or a pot of chocolate before bed?”  
Sophie smiled, “No, the tea would be lovely…”   
“Emily.” The maid replied.   
“Thank you very much. Emily.” Sophie replied, turning to enter her room as the maid continued along. 

Sophie set the decoy book on her bedside table and began removing her jewelry. She slipped out of the dress and began wrapping her hair in satin before she removed her lashes and makeup. As Sophie continued in the washroom, Emily returned with her tea and set it on the small table before Sophie exited with bags on both her hands and feet. Emily noticed before looking to the floor. “Shall I pour the tea ma’am?” Emily asked. Sophie lifted her bagged hands and replied with a shrug, “No. I will have Charles attend to me. Thank you Emily.” Emily left the room and Sophie turned back the bed and lay down. Lancelot entered the room and gave a fright when he saw her.

“My word!” he exclaimed. Sophie looked down at herself plussed. “Oh Marian, however do you keep such soft hands!” She feigned jovially, “Marian you always look so fresh.” Sophie rolled her eyes as Lancelot raised his eyebrow.  
“So, this is your alchemy?” he remarked, studying curiously. He spied the table, “Is there tea?”  
“Chamomile.” Sophie replied, lifting her bagged hands, “Help yourself.”  
“Nonsense.” He replied, grasping her wrists and lifting her to a sit. He poured the cup and then offered it to her lips gently. Sophie took a long careful sip before he finished the cup.  
“Such a gentleman.” she said gratefully.

Sophie turned for her tablet, knocking it behind the bed. She heard Lancelot in the washroom, so she stood and attempted to pull the massive bed away from the wall to retrieve it. Sophie grunted, struggling fruitlessly as she rocked the wooden frame against the wall lightly. Lancelot left the shower, and hearing the grunting and dull thump, rushed from the bathroom in his towel to help when he saw it was just Sophie pulling the bed. Lancelot walked to the other side of the bed and looked to Sophie for explanation. She stopped, pointed down and mouthed, ‘my tablet.’  
Lancelot nodded, and gripped the other side of the bed. Groaning, they both jostled the bed and the tablet fell. 

“Oh thank God!” Sophie exclaimed. Lancelot walked around and bent to collect it, handing it back to Sophie. “Satisfied, Guinevere?” he asked, very amused.  
“Very. Lancelot, my hero.” She replied, crawling back into bed as he returned to the washroom. He returned in his pajamas and slipped into bed beside Sophie, who was already dozing lightly. She had removed the bags but was still wearing gloves, and she smelled of lavender. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such fun on a mission, and he continued to be delighted by Guinevere. Lancelot turned to his side, smiled, and drifted to sleep. 

 

Lancelot fiercely struck the ball with his bat, sending it past the boundary. “Good show!” Sophie cheered happily, clapping as Lancelot stood back. The boys changed configuration and Lancelot ran around the field as the ladies watched. “Doesn’t seem fair, playing against such a young man.” Sharon commented. Sophie’s eyes never left Lancelot as she remarked, “Come on, Sharon - all’s fair in love and garden cricket.” The ladies sipped Pimm’s and continued to watch the boys play. Bunny sat knitting as the rest of the group enjoyed the beautiful day, “We have really enjoyed your company,” she commented, “You are a great fit for our little group. We do hope you will join us for the race.”

Sophie sipped her Pimm’s, smiling as she considered it. A sweaty and lightly soiled Lancelot walked up, and Sophie answered Bunny, “I think we would love that. What do you think Charles? Could we continue to the races?”   
Lancelot raised his eyebrows, “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? I know how you feel about the poor horses.”  
Sophie nodded, “I enjoy the company, and I do live you make you happy.” She batted her eyes quickly and Lancelot leaned down and kissed her with a thankful passion that made the ladies fan themselves. When they parted he commented, “I will take care of everything my love.”  
As he and the other men walked back into the office, she turned to the girls. “I suppose it’s off to the races.”

The men congratulated one another with whiskey as Lancelot signed documents and handed over the check. “Lady Marian is a delight.” Ian said, “You were hiding her from us too long.”   
Lancelot nodded, “She is the rhythm of my heart.” The other men smiled, and Sharon’s husband countered, “Oh, we heard, Lancelot.” The other men burst into laughter as Lancelot’s smile faded. He looked curiously among them before Ian said, “It is brash, but the walls here are a bit thin and Bunny and Alfred heard you last night.” Still confused, Lancelot stood nonplussed until Alfred consoled him, “You have nothing to be ashamed of, being a young couple in love.” He explained, “But you might take heed of the bedpost next time.” 

The men continued laughing amongst one another as it dawned on Lancelot how they had misinterpreted the night’s events. He excused himself, walking out and whispering this information to Sophie; who gasped, looked to the ladies across the table and burst into nervous laughter. “They wholeheartedly believe this cover now.” He quipped, “You really are quite the accidental spy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lancelot spots an oversight, and makes a discovery while Sophie finally becomes one of the boys.

Lancelot walked along the train, looking for their cabin and examining his ticket. He found it at the far end, and rapped upon the door. Sophie opened it and turned back to putting the luggage away. She had already laid out the necessities for the sleeper compartment and opened a bottle of wine to breathe. Lancelot looked around impressed, “However did we get a cabin so far from the others?” Sophie fastened the cases into place and replied, “I gave the porter 100 quid and asked for it.” 

Sophie turned, grinning and threw a mischievous look which spread to Lancelot as he closed the cabin door. “Perhaps we should dine in the cabin this evening?” he mused.  
Sophie’s shoulders dropped in relief, “You have read my mind, Charles.” Her eyes trailed for a moment before she leaned forward, “In fact, are we doing this? Because I’m wearing a corset in a private train compartment.”  
Lancelot grinned as a slight blush overcame him. He opened the bathroom door and waved to it, “Liberate yourself, my dearest.” He offered, “Shall I pour the wine?”  
Sophie grabbed her dressing gown, spun around and went for the bathroom door playfully. Lancelot poured the wine on the small bedside table into two glasses, shrugged and removed his shoes before sitting on the bed. 

Sophie emerged, wearing her long dressing gown and sat on the opposite side of the bed. Lancelot extended her wine glass, and they both took a satisfying sip and enjoyed the silence. Sophie opened her hand cream, rubbing some along her forearms slowly. Lancelot enjoyed his wine as he watched. Sophie finished her wine and poured another, offering to refresh Lancelot’s glass. “You are very lithe,” Lancelot complemented, “like a elegant songbird. Perhaps I should call you ‘Birdy.’” 

The comment caught Sophie by surprise, and as a lump formed in her throat she turned from Lancelot so he wouldn’t see the tears which had formed in her eyes. She sniffed one time to calm herself, and Lancelot sat up concerned. “What wrong?” He asked.  
Sophie shook her head quickly, “Nothing,” she replied, “Sorry, I’m fine.” She quickly wiped her face and held her breath as she felt Lancelot reach for her hand.  
“You’re not.” Lancelot said gently, “Was it me?”

Feeling the warmth of Lancelot’s hand grasping hers, Sophie turned slowly to face him. Her eyes were still moist with tears and the was a quiver in her voice when she replied, “No. It wasn’t you.”  
Lancelot shifted, patting the bed for her to sit. Sophie climbed onto the bed, embarrassed and examined her hands while Lancelot returned her wine glass. “You can talk to me.” He explained.  
Sophie sniffed again and took a long slow drink of the wine. Lancelot turned, resting a reassuring hand on Sophie’s knee, “Really, just let it out. You’ll feel better.”

Sophie took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to think I’m overly emotional.” She admitted.  
Lancelot looked puzzled, so Sophie continued, “I know the other Kingsman don’t care for me, but I like you.” she sniffed, “I don’t want to ruin it.”  
Lancelot scoffed, “I’ve never heard anyone say a disparaging word about you. I don’t believe you are disliked by anyone.”  
Sophie took another sip of her wine, “No one’s ever asked me for a drink after work. I don’t want to push in, but you all seem to have your groups.”  
Lancelot pondered this for a moment - he had never asked her, and had never thought about it. “That’s simply because we usually head to the club.” He assured. “That isn’t personal at all Guinevere.”  
“Do you mean Boodles?” She asked. Lancelot nodded, and she replied, “Where no woman has entered since 1762? Seems a bit personal.” She remarked.

Silence passed between them as Lancelot felt immediately embarrassed at that revelation. “That wasn’t what had you so upset, was it?” He asked, his concern evident.  
This made Sophie smile, “No,” she said relieved, “I see now that it wasn’t at all personal. You didn’t dislike me, you just didn’t see me.”  
Lancelot looked discouraged, “That doesn’t seem like much comfort.”  
“But it is.” Sophie countered.

Lancelot took a drink of his wine, his confidence shaken by her admission. He had never realized she might’ve felt that way, nor that she was afraid to confide in anyone.  
“I was upset because…” Sophie began, “someone I was seeing just ended it. I think he ended it.” She shrugged, “He used to call me a bird. I loved it.”  
Lancelot left his worries, listening to Sophie as she explained. Sophie gripped her glass with both hands, carefully choosing her words. She blinked several times, making Lancelot wonder if she discussed these feelings with anyone at all.

“How long were you together?” Lancelot asked, refreshing her glass and emptying the bottle.  
“Ten years.” Sophie relied simply. That fact, both impressive and flat, stunned Lancelot. He tried to imagine any of his relationships extending to a decade. “Does he know what we do?” He continued, trying to understand. Sophie made a face, trying to maintain discretion.  
“He proposed marriage,” she sighed, “provided I give it all up.” Sophie swallowed the last of her wine, staring outward at nothing. Lancelot added nothing, letting her honesty come without interruption.

“I love what I do,” she explained, her lip hindering a slight quiver, “what we do. I’m good at it. I worked hard for it. To ask me to give it up...”  
Lancelot nodded his understanding, reaching to retrieve her empty glass. Sophie let her hands fall into her lap with a faint clap. She shook her head slightly at nothing, and stared.  
“Well, he sounds like a bit of a blackguard.” Lancelot summated.  
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears a second time, and Lancelot went for his handkerchief. As he offered it to her, he opened his arms and welcomed her to lean in his embrace.

 

“That’s it,” he advised, “if you let this out you’ll feel much better.” Sophie rested against the fabric of his vest, clutching his handkerchief and sniffling as she let the tears pour into it silently. For a few moments, Lancelot patted her arm but said nothing.  
“But…” she answered, “he isn’t. Honestly, he’s witty, wise, warm…” Sophie looked up at Lancelot, “He’s wonderful. He’s the love of my life,” she returned to his chest, “and I really do want to marry him. He just doesn’t love me enough to support what I do completely and I don’t love him enough to give it up.” 

Her last admission broke her resolved and she just curled up against him and wept, brokenhearted. Lancelot held to her, listening and trying to think of the right thing to say. Sophie squeezed him, grateful to be herself with someone. “That’s why I took your communication.” she explained, “After that night, I just wanted to work. I’m at my best when I’m working. I’m sorry Lancelot.”  
“This was the night I contacted you?” he asked.  
Sophie said nothing, sniffling loudly as she nodded. Lancelot looked down at her head, amazed at her determination. He pulled away from her gently, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. 

“Friends use names.” He clarified, “My name is James.”  
A meek smile found her lips and she responded, “Sophie. Nice to meet you.”  
He pulled her back into his embrace, holding her torso in a firm but comfortable hug, and Sophie turned in his arms with her back against his side and her head resting against his upper arm. She was fatigued from the exchange, but hopeful that she could be so honest with someone. Lancelot looked down at her, both grateful to be trusted and troubled by the hand he had played in her loneliness and hurt. He’d be a better friend than that in the future, he resolved.  
“He’s a fool, Sophie.” Lancelot said firmly, “He’s an utter fool.”

 

When the train arrived, it was business as usual as the compartment opened as Sophie stepped out in a country suit and Chanel sunglasses. She tipped the porter and instructed as to the direction of the baggage. She turned and waved to Clarissa and Bunny with a bright smile.  
“We missed you last night!” Clarissa called in greeting. As Lancelot approached, Sophie looked back to him as she answered, “Sometimes you just need a bit of quiet time with your man.”  
The two women looked at each other humorously before turning back to the conversation. Lancelot stepped off the train, turning to assist each of the ladies off the coach. Last was Sophie, who held his shoulders as he lifted her by the waist and lowered her slowly. “Thank you Charles.” she said lovingly as he kissed her hand. 

They each filed into their hired cars, Bunny turning to Clarissa, “She’s lovely, but not the most social girl.” She said. Clarissa watched as they climbed into the car with all their luggage.  
“If I had that all alone to myself, I’d abandon us too.” she responded, sending Bunny into laughter.  
“Clarissa!” She gasped, “you should be ashamed.” The ladies climbed into their car with their husbands. The cars continued to the house in Maisons-Laffitte, and Sophie gasped as she exited the car. “Oh, it’s beautiful! Votre maison est précieux!” She gushed, as Ian and Clarissa were walking over. Ian gave friendly kiss on the cheek, “See? I told you you’d have a great time! You haven’t even seen the course. Simply gorgeous.” 

“Actually, is anyone else hungry?” Sophie surveyed the group noting the interest of the ladies. Lancelot walked over to her and she hugged him, “Please Charles? I did want to buy a few cases of wine.” Sophie looked up at him, and Lancelot turned to the men, “What say you, gentleman? Should we attend to this business and let the ladies shop in town?”  
The men agreed and Lancelot turned back, “I do love saying yes to you,” he commented, “Off you go. Please be back in time for tea.” Sophie hugged him tightly, turning her lips near his ear.  
“Get as much information as you can while I keep the girls. I’ll plant the bugs later.” Sophie kissed his cheek and with the girls climbed back into the car which then drove away. 

 

The black mare thundered past as the ladies sat having their tea. “It really is a magnificent creature,” Sophie agreed, “You don’t fear she’ll come to any harm in the races?”  
Arthur confidently shook his head, “This is what they do, Lady Marian. I assure you, she is fine.”  
Ian continued, “That beauty is going to lead us to glory and riches beyond the Steeplechase.” The gentlemen laughed while Sophie studied each of them curiously, “Whatever do you mean?”  
Lancelot took her hand, “He means more diamonds in your future, my love. More champagne.” 

Sophie smiled reluctantly, and Ian walked to the back of her chair, “Come with me,” he urged, “I want you to meet her up close.” Sophie slowly stood as he pulled the chair and took her hand. She kept Lancelot’s gaze as she walked across the field in her heels and up to the horse. The group watched as Sophie ran her hand along the horse’s hip and laughed aloud as the tail whipped back at her. Sophie leaned up onto the fence for another pet when the horse whipped around suddenly, sending Sophie off the bench and into the soft soil. The ladies gasped as Lancelot excused himself and ran over. Sophie slowly turned herself over and grasped her ankle.

“Marian, my dearest.” Lancelot called, “Are you alright?”  
Sophie winced, trying to move her ankle, “Charles, it hurts quite badly,” she replied with tears in her eyes, “I...I don’t think it’s broken but I cannot get up.”  
Lancelot shed his coat, handing it to Ian before bending down to lift Sophie in his arms.  
“I’m sure she will be OK, but should I ring for a doctor?” Ian offered.  
“Oh no, I’m sure it isn’t so bad.” Sophie assured, wincing, “What about the poor horse? I didn’t upset her, did I?”

“I’ll say, she *is* an animal enthusiast!” Ian remarked, “Nachtie is going to be okay, she was just a little spooked. It’s you we are all worried about.”  
“I think it’s beginning to swell,” Lancelot said as he carried her toward the table. The ladies all watched, concerned as Lancelot carried her over, fretting over her ankle as she held to his neck and whimpered. “I think you should go inside and rest your ankle.” Lancelot advised.  
“Oh no,” Sophie protested, “I was having such a good time. Must I Charles? I could prop it up out here perhaps?” 

“No my dear” Lancelot persisted, “I want this elevated with a bit of ice before it discolors.”  
Sophie pouted, resting her head against his chest as he turned to the ladies, “I’m really sorry ladies, but I’m afraid she must rest this.” He explained, “Perhaps with a good compress, she will be able to join us for dinner.” Lancelot looked down at Sophie, “Does that sound ok my love?”  
“I’m sorry ladies,” she replied, “I feel like I haven’t given you proper attention this trip at all.”  
“Not at all.” Sharon replied for the group, “You are hurt. We will see you at dinner.”  
Bunny instructed Lancelot, “Be sure to wrap that, but not too tightly before you elevate it.”

“Yes ma’am.” Lancelot answered, hugging Sophie tightly. Sophie nuzzled his neck and he began making his way to the house. Once they were inside, Lancelot whispered, “Are you good?”  
Sophie met his gaze, ceasing her whimpers completely, “All good.” She replied.  
Lancelot lowered her to her feet and she slipped off her heels. “Get the staff to take you for ice. I’ll plant all the bugs and meet you in the room when it’s done.”

 

The glasses clinked and then parted back at Kingsman HQ. “It was brilliant,” Lancelot explained, “She was quick as a flash. With all that surveillance we should have no problem at all building the case for the proper authorities.” Lancelot turned his smile to Sophie, who finished her champagne, “And if I’m ever needed again,” she offered, “you know where to find me.”  
Lancelot raised his glass again, “Thank you Guinevere.”  
Sophie set her glass down, “I’m going to file our report.” Lancelot swallowed, “Is it done already?”  
Sophie smiled, nodding as she turned and walked out of the conference room.  
“She really should work more locally.” Lancelot said to Arthur, who watched her walk away.

Harry also watched her confidently pass through the hall to the office to file her end of mission report. It had been two agonizing weeks for him, but as he watched her working he couldn’t bring himself to possibly spoil her mood. He ducked into the locker room as she entered the corridor and kept low to miss her. He missed her terribly but wanted to be sure before he attempted to make his case a second time. “Hello Galahad,” Lancelot said, walking to him, “I trust you are well.” Harry was reluctant in his reply, his mind still on avoiding Sophie. 

“You were just on a mission with Guinevere, weren’t you?” Harry asked absentmindedly.  
“Have you had the pleasure?” Lancelot replied, “I highly recommend it if you have the chance.”  
Harry turned his focus to Lancelot, “What does that mean?” He challenged.  
Lancelot looked at him quizzically, “She’s a brilliant agent, quite an asset.” he replied, “Why?”  
Harry fidgeted for a moment as he thought, “No reason. I just thought she was off duty at the moment.” Harry looked past Lancelot at the doorway and Lancelot watched him confused.  
“Well, lucky for me she answered my call,” Lancelot commented cautiously, “Gareth wouldn’t have been nearly as enjoyable a bride. He’s a terrible kisser.” He quipped.

“So you were married? On your mission?” Harry inquired.  
Lancelot blinked a few times as he pondered Harry. “My Heavens, it’s you,” he realized, muttering, “You’re the blackguard.”  
Harry looked surprised for a moment, before saying, “I don’t understand.”  
“You’re the one, aren’t you?” Lancelot whispered.  
Harry said nothing, but his expression was crestfallen. “I don’t know what you mean.” he said.  
“Ahh,” Lancelot replied snidely, “well, if it interests you, someone ended things with Sophie just for doing what we do, and she spent the better part of an evening weeping on my shoulder because he is so wonderful and she’s so in love.”  
Harry stared at him hard, angry and ashamed. “Is she alright?” he asked finally.

“She might be.” Lancelot answered, “But she is a treasure, and that fool should remedy this while he still can. He should listen to her, and beg her forgiveness.” Harry retrieved the note from his pocket, turning it over in his hands before returning his gaze. “It’s complicated.” he admitted.  
“A life without her doesn’t seem complicated.” he countered sternly, “You know, when she described this man as witty, warm, and the love of her life - he seemed too good to be true. Now, you doing that?” Lancelot said disappointed, “That is too good to be true.”  
Harry nodded soberly, “I will make it right, old friend.” He promised.

Sophie entered the locker room, making her way to her locker. Lancelot tapped Percival and Gareth and led them to her. “Guinevere,” he called over, “If you aren’t busy tonight, Gareth, Percival and I would like you to join us at the Savoy for drinks.” Sophie looked at each of the men nonplussed until Percival offered, “It would be quite good fun actually. I’d very much like to hear about your work in the field.” From across the room, Harry watched as a smile spread across Sophie’s face. Her eyes shined as though she might cry as a chuckled escaped her and she cleared her throat.

“Um...yes. Yes. That would be lovely.” Sophie replied, “If you gentleman could give me a few moments to change? We wouldn’t want to all match.” The group shared a laugh and Gareth said, “We’ll be in the shop when you’re ready.” They filed out with Lancelot smiling as he brought up the rear. Sophie tried to contain her giddy laughter as she took down her hair and grabbed a dress and heels from her locker. She placed her coat and attache into the locker and grabbed her clutch before going to change. “Goodbye Galahad.” She said, acknowledging his presence before walking out of the room.

Harry watched as she met the group in a silk dress of a dark navy color. His heart sank as Gareth helped her slip on her trench and held the door for her. He watched her slip into the cab and away from him, all with a fire in his belly concerning what Lancelot had said. He tore the note in his pocket and considered how to go from here when he stopped, and looked out the window again. Sophie was having a night she had longed for, he realized, and considering what she wanted was exactly what he needed to do if he ever hoped for a reconciliation. With fresh resolve, he collected his things and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A full night and a question in the place it all started. Just another day in the life of a Kingsman.

It was late when the taxi stopped and a jovial Sophie stepped out of it. Lancelot followed, paying the taxi and standing with Sophie in the cool night air.  
“That was quite a night out,” Lancelot admitted, “Someone should have warned me about you.”  
“That would’ve ruined my mystique.” Sophie joked, “It’s my best asset.”  
Sophie offered her hand to Lancelot, who took it and twirled her along the sidewalk before she pulled him to the building.  
“Truth be told, I’m seldom this tipsy,” she admitted, “and almost never in such a good humour. It’s all thanks to you.” Sophie leaned against the door, and Lancelot faced her on the step. “This night was so much fun I hate to see it end.” 

There was a note of sadness in her admission, and as she turned to unlock the door to the building, Lancelot volunteered, “Well, at least let me walk you to the door. I’d feel much better if I did my gentlemanly duty.”  
Sophie turned back as she pushed the door open and stepped inside, “You’re always such a gentleman, aren’t you?” She quipped, walking to the staircase. “It’s a walk up, I’m afraid.”  
Lancelot dropped to a knee, carefully removing each of her heels and carrying them as she started up the stairs. He followed behind at pace, saying nothing as she made her way up each floor.  
“It’s much easier, but you know these stockings are destroyed.” Sophie lamented with a sigh.

Lancelot simply smirked as Sophie rounded the staircase, having finally reached her floor. When she turned to her door, she gasped. On the small table beside her door was an enormous vase of red roses. She stopped cold at the sight of them, and Lancelot watched curiously as she approached them slowly. She studied them, but didn’t touch them. “Those are quite pretty.” Lancelot offered. Sophie looked at him, her expression puzzled. “Maybe they aren’t mine,” she reasoned, “Maybe the florist made a mistake.”  
Lancelot pointed, “There’s a card. Looks like it’s for you. I’ll help you bring them in.” He handed Sophie her shoes and lifted the large vase as she unlocked the apartment door.

Sophie held the door allowing Lancelot to walk in. He set the flowers on the small dining table in the corner of the living room while Sophie set her shoes and purse down. She draped her trench over her armchair and walked over to the roses, removing the large card from the blooms. Lancelot stepped quietly to the door before turning to watch her open the card. She read silently:

Dorchester Hotel  
7:30pm tomorrow  
Please.

-The Fool

Lancelot watched as a smile began meekly, spreading across her face and lighting up her eyes as she stared at the card. He was surprised to find himself ever so subtly sad amidst his happiness of seeing her joy. Her heart completely belonged to Harry - there was no confusing that. Lancelot smiled, hoping he was seeing the last of her heartbreak. He cleared his throat, turning to leave when Sophie set the card down turning to him.  
“Wait.” Sophie called to him. She walked over as he held the door. “I’ll just be off,” he replied, “it’s late so I’ll let you rest. But do take the rest of your decompression.” He advised, “You deserve it.”

Sophie reached him, and resting her palms on his chest, she leaned up in her stockinged feet and placed a single, slow and heartfelt kiss on his lips. Stunned by her intensity, Lancelot embraced her, nestled his hand in her hair and held to the small of her back. It was the sort of kiss that began love affairs - or ended them. After a few consuming moments, they broke slowly and Sophie sank to her heels. 

“Thank you for marrying me Charles.” She said.  
“Marian,” he replied, “that pleasure was entirely mine.”  
Sophie leaned on the door as Lancelot stepped through. “Goodnight James.” She said sweetly.  
“Goodnight Sophie.” He said simply, turning down the staircase and disappearing from sight.

 

Sophie stepped into the bar of the Dorchester Hotel and scanned for Harry. Harry was sitting in a private snug, nursing his scotch and keeping his eye on the door. His gaze went wide as he saw Sophie enter in a very familiar yellow tulle. She did a simple sweep of the bar when Harry stood, his mouth agape at the exquisite sight of her. Her hair was in loose ringlets and she had more jewelry, but she filled the dress exactly the same as he remembered - perhaps better. Once he stood staring, Sophie easily saw him, and made her way to the small booth. “You are a vision.” Harry beamed, gesturing for her to sit.

“It’s just an old dress,” Sophie dismissed. She extended her hand to Harry, who caressed it and held it to his forehead as he sat beside her. “There is nothing ‘just…’ about you,” he replied, “Thank you for coming.” Sophie simply offered a meek smile as Harry waved the waiter over and ordered her favorite drink. “Actually, I think I’ll have a vodka martini tonight,” she corrected, “Belvedere.” The waiter confirmed and Harry turned to her surprised, “Well, you are full of surprises.” He remarked pleasantly. Sophie smiled but said nothing. Harry admired her shoulders as she sat quietly, awaiting her drink.

Her drink arrived and she extended it to meet his, “Cin cin.” They said together, tapping the glasses. Sophie sat back, sipping her martini slowly and trying to radiate a calm grace. Harry could not have know the hours of makeup and hair choices she had made, and he didn’t need to.  
This effort seemed exceedingly fruitful, however, as Harry’s stare lingered on her in an almost shameless way. Sophie found herself wondering exactly how many drinks he had consumed before her arrival. “Thank you for the beautiful roses,” Sophie said softly, “they were too much.”

Harry’s eyes shined as he finished his scotch and leaned forward to address her, “While you were on your mission, I knew I had to make this rift right, and I had written you a letter explaining how I felt…” Harry cleared his throat, “But then Lancelot gave me the pranging I quite rightly deserved. I didn’t need to tell you more of my feelings.” Sophie turned to face him as Harry continued, “So, if you’ll allow me, I’ve taken a suite for tonight, where I can sit and listen and you can tell me everything. Once I understand the damage I have done with my thoughtlessness, then I can perhaps give you the apology you truly deserve.”

Sophie clutched her necklace silently as Harry signaled for another drink. “I can never change that I broke your heart, and you might not forgive me. I would understand, but at the very least you have one full night to make yourself clearly understood and have any closure you want. I...” he paused, “would have one more night with you. One night to just look at you and be grateful.”  
Sophie let the intensity of his sentiment wash over her as she finished her drink. When she was certain her voice wouldn’t waver, she asked softly, “Is that what you want?”  
Harry replied without looking up from his hands, “It doesn’t matter what I want.” He then looked her deeply in the eyes and replied, “All I want is you.”

Sophie let her crossed leg extend, running her shoe along the back of Harry’s calf to the knee. He immediately looked up, sighing in relief and wrapping his warm hand around her foot. The weight of his regret draped heavy on him, which made Sophie pine for him but she held back. She also held her resentment and hurt, and he was right that the time had come for him to listen. She looked at his broad shoulders in their pinstriped coat. How could she be surrounded by men in suits everyday, and yet this suit made her dizzy? She wondered. “Well Galahad,” she proffered, “Should we go up?” 

She caught his glance as he looked at her and they smiled as he nodded, standing and offering her his hand. He tucked the key into it and went to the bar to settle as she walked to the elevator. He joined her as the door closed, not touching her and looking ahead. His reticence was curious, perhaps a product of shame but Sophie guessed it was more likely that he couldn’t connect this to any aggression or anger. Sophie smiled, realizing that he was worried about losing her. Such an impossible thing, it seemed to Sophie, that witnessing it was curious. The elevator opened and she walked to the suite. As she opened the door, she was stunned - he had dressed the room with rose petals, along with his chess set, wine and everything from their first night together. 

She walked over to the bureau to examine as Harry lingered behind her, “You brought the Dylan Thomas book,” she laughed. Harry walked up behind her, “Would you like me to read it to you?” He offered, which made Sophie laugh roundly. “No!” she cried. She lifted the cover of the book to peer at the contents when she felt his hand on her stomach. He stepped close to her, his nose buried in her hair and whispered, “How about this?”  
“I’m glad I met you - you wonderful you.” he sang softly to her, “I can’t forget you - you wonderful you.” Sophie broke out in gooseflesh, swaying mildly as he pressed to her and continued, “You’re like a breath of spring, a whole new thing has happened. And without much adieu, I look at you…” He turned her to face him and concluded, “there stands love.” 

Sophie blinked away faint tears, leaning into share a hungry but brief kiss. “Now my love,” Harry explained, “you are exquisite as you are, but perhaps a bit uncomfortable, so I took the liberty of bringing the pajamas you like so much as well as the fluffy robe.” He gestured to the washroom, “Whatever the lady prefers.” Sophie looked at him and then to the washroom. She stepped out of her heels and walked past, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Are you going to be like this all night?” She mused. “My dear, I’m going to be like this the rest of your life.” He answered. 

Sophie returned in Harry’s pajama top to find the bed turned down on one side and Harry pouring a glass of wine. He looked up at her, patting the bed before he set the wine at the bedside and walked away. “Are you going to undress?” she asked. Harry removed his shoes and replied, “It is my understanding that you find this suit desirable, so I will be remaining in this.” Sophie blinked several times, and Harry responded, “Alright. Perhaps I will get a little informal.” With that, he removed his coat and placed it on the chair. “There we are.” 

Sophie shook her head, walking around the bed to sit where it was turned down. Harry sat on the end of that side, taking her feet into his lap. He took one foot in his hands and began kneading it gently. Relieved at the sensation, she stretched and remarked, “You’re good at that. Why have you never rubbed my feet before?” Harry smiled as he answered, “Because I’m a perfect bastard, Sophie.” They shared a long gaze occasionally broken my Sophie closing her eyes as Harry gently massaged her foot. “Tell me everything Sophie,” he implored, “I want to hear everything you are thinking.”

Sophie sipped her wine, taking in the tranquility of the room with its candlelight and comforts. “When I was in the care home, I built a radio,” she began, “out of a biscuit tin. I used to lay in the dark and try to dial the voices. I dreamed of getting out - getting anywhere. I dreamed of travel and career, which turned into school and fencing. Fencing turned into Imperial College. That turned into Kingsman. I had done it, by sheer force of will I had come close enough to being a lady that a man like you wanted me.” Sophie paused, taking another drink of her wine as Harry rested that foot and took the other.

“I never actually thought about being the person I was becoming.” She explained, “So I depend on the work. I confide in the work, and trust in myself. I don’t tell you - or anyone - things I think might make them look at me and see that person I used to be. The person I still am underneath.”  
Sophie stopped, staring at nothing before finishing her glass, “I’m weak, Harry. I one of those pieces of glass that can take a bullet but can shatter if touched.” Harry kissed the top of Sophie’s foot, “You’re not.” He said confidently, “You are the bravest woman I know.”

Sophie sniffed, trying to even her emotions, “So when you offered marriage as a choice…” she said, quivering, “an ultimatum, it was like being knocked all the way back down. Because you are the love of my life Harry. If you don’t have confidence in me then all the proof I thought I had is worthless.” Harry stood to refill her glass while she composed herself, “I need the work. I love what we do, and when I do it well it feels like I deserve everything.” She explained, “Even you.”  
Harry returned her glass to her, gesturing for her to move forward on the bed. Sitting behind her, Harry removed his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves before massaging her tense neck. Sophie simply sat there quietly, enjoying the soothing touch of her beloved. She felt dizzy from the admission.

“I could tell you how worthy you are to me.” Harry explained, “How simply knowing you are near puts me at an ease and how I think of you everyday, but you’re right. It does not matter how beloved we are if we do not feel worthy ourselves.” Harry brushed her hair to the side and unbuttoned the top button of the pajamas, exposing her shoulder and giving him access to work her tight muscles. “The apology I owe you is for not articulating my reverence for you loudly and often. I have not made myself available for you, and as a result you keep things inside I wish you told me. I am truly sorry Sophie.” Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder, “If you give me another chance, you have my word that I will never make you cry in sorrow again.”

Sophie leaned against Harry as he held her, “You silly man,” she replied, handing the glass back, “I’m not going anywhere.” Harry squeezed her, making her laugh softly. “My turn, I suppose,” Harry admitted, “Sophie, when you left our taxi that night it was as though you took all music and poetry with you.” He confessed, “I’ve never felt so low in my entire life, and I realized how foolish I had been. The only life I couldn’t bare is one without your love, and I almost caused that with my own misguided pride.” Harry placed the ring box back into her hands, covering them with his and holding them closed.

“No conditions, no restrictions, no rush. I want you to have the life you want, have your adventures and save the world.” he proposed, “Just come home to me. At the end of everything, let us belong to one another.” Sophie closed her eyes, feeling Harry remove his hands from hers, which still grasped the ring. She took a deep, contemplative breath.  
“Is that a new cologne?” She asked, her back still to Harry.  
“It is.” He replied.  
“I don’t like it. Go back to the old one.” She advised.  
“As you wish.” He agreed.

Sophie turned to face Harry, who smiled at her comment and touched her face tenderly before gently kissing her. “Now that was a proposal.” she whispered, kissing him again. She leaned against him, her hands drawing up to his shoulders as he kissed her over and over. Harry rested his legs on the bed, extending them in front of him. Sophie shifted, throwing her legs across his lap and letting him hold her. Harry studied her face with a dignified smirk, slowly brushing strands of her hair around her face as he leaned back against the headboard. Sophie drew up her knees, hugging them and resting her cheek against them. She looked at Harry, her long lashes blinking slowly. He reached out, brushing her lips with his fingertips. “Undress.” She ordered.

Harry lifted her legs, slipping from under them as he stood. Sophie leaned back on her arms, watching as Harry slowly unbuttoned his shirt, opening it to expose his hairless and muscular torso. Dropping the shirt, he gazed at her as he unfastened his belt and opened his trousers, bending to drop and step from them. Sophie tilted her head to the side, watching as he stood before her in his boxers. She extended her toes to the hem of his boxers with a gentle tap, “I said undress.” She instructed, sitting up and sliding to the edge of the bed as he removed his boxers and stood before her. She looked up into his eyes as he stood before her nude. 

She leaned forward, kissing along his waist. She held his hips as she caressed his soft skin, placing slow thoughtful kisses around his navel and feeling him tremble at the sensation. She felt him stroke her hair and she looked up lustfully to meet his gaze. Harry had a mischievous grin as he traced his hand down her face and inserted his thumb into her hungry mouth. Sophie playfully grazed her teeth against it before enticing him with strong sucking, which Harry immediately responded to, grasping her chin and leaning down to kiss her passionately. Sophie’s body arched up to him, drawing her right knee as she leaned back. 

Harry ran a hand along her leg, gripping her knee and guiding her back onto the bed as he explored her eager mouth. His hands trailed up her legs and squeezed her ass tightly and he gasped for air before turning to the other side of her face to continue his ravenous engagement. Sophie moaned as he moved down her cheek to her neck, leaving little space unaddressed. He leaned up, pausing for a moment before he ripped the pajamas open, determined. His hands slipped under the small of her back, arching her back as he continued to worship her soft, pale skin. Sophie usually tried to refocus her attention to Harry, but found herself indulgently surrendering to his command and her pleasure.

Harry continued with singular focus, kissing her stomach as his hands found her panties and forcefully pulled them away. Sophie moaned darkly at the action, and Harry returned his gaze to her as he crawled back along her body. He spread her legs wide with his knees, took her hair in his grip and looked down at her enticing smile as he forcefully penetrated her. “Yes…” Sophie moaned as Harry sank deeply into her, connecting to her lips with a probing kiss. Keeping one hand at her hip, he began to buck with forceful thrusts that surprised and delighted Sophie. He pulled her hair, kissing her cheek before he turned to direct his breathing beside her face.

Sophie felt his breath pouring over her neck and ear, nuzzling his neck as his stroke slowed in intensity. Harry kissed her cheek as she looked back at him. “No…” she whispered. She grabbed his ass, pulling him tightly to her, “Mine.” She growled low at him with another pull, “Like that.”  
Harry raised an eyebrow, aroused at the command, and returned an assertive thrust. “Like this, my love?” He confirmed sweetly. He made another thrust, squeezing Sophie’s hip as she moaned blissfully. “Yes…” she panted as he brushed his nose against hers. She drew her fingernails down Harry’s back, causing him to bury his forehead in her hair as he felt her begin to tremble.

Sophie held to his shoulders, holding him tightly to her as she mingled her fingers in his hair. She wrapped her legs around his hips even as she felt herself shaking. Harry thrust one final time, grinding his pelvis against her as Sophie submitted to his effort, moaning loudly as she went limp in his arms. Her every breath was a soft whimper as he slowly lifted from her. “Sophie?” He asked, granting a gentle kiss to her hand, “Are you alright my love?” As Sophie lay there spent, her eyes closed, she reached up and drew her fingertips down Harry’s face. A smile found her lips and she moaned softly. “That’s my Canary.” He soothed happily.

“Come to me.” she requested softly. Harry stroked her hair gently before leaning down to grant her a gentle but lingering kiss. He reclined beside her and Sophie squeezed his hand. “Are we us again?” She asked in the darkness. Harry kissed her hand, “God I hope so.” He answered. Sophie rolled over, hugging his side and resting her head on his torso. Harry smiled, wrapping his arm around her. Sophie looked up at Harry, pensive.  
“What is it, my love?” he asked.  
“Would it be cheeky of me to send you out for chips?” she joked.  
Harry looked up, “Would you like them, Canary?” he asked softly.

Sophie giggled, squeezing him. “I love you Harry Hart,” she said, “just stay here and hold me.”  
Harry stroked her hair with a serene smirk, “Anything you say my dearest,” he replied.

 

As morning came, Sophie stirred and turned to kiss Harry good morning. “Did you already shave?” She asked, caressing his cheek. Harry opened one eye slyly, smiled, and closed it again. “That is cheating.” Sophie responded, “You get to look perfect in the morning and I look like this.” Harry sat up, took Sophie’s cheek and kissed her softly. “You look like I’m staring love in the face.” He said charmingly, turning to stretch and climb out of bed. Sophie moaned softly as she stretched, and stood to collect her dress. “I didn’t know I would be staying so I didn’t bring anything. Looks like the walk of shame for me.”

Harry cleared his throat, opening the wardrobe to display a complete outfit for her. He said nothing, just walking over to kiss her on the cheek. “Oh no,” she protested, “thoughtfulness of this caliber demands reward.” Harry raised an eyebrow as Sophie walked to the washroom, “I’m having a shower,” she announced, “care to join?” Harry said nothing, marching straight into the washroom.

 

As the elevator opened to the lobby, Sophie yawned and flashed Harry’s mother’s ring which was now on her finger. Harry caught sight of it, his eyes trailing her as Sophie grabbed her bag. “Pick a church.” She said, leaving the elevator and crossing the lobby happily. Harry simply stood there, a bewildered grin on his face as the elevator doors closed on him. 

Sophie reached her door and found a small bag from Net-A-Porter sitting on the table beside her door. Sophie curiously opened it, removing the package of silk stockings contained within. Attached to the bag was a note which read, 

Why yes, I *am* always such a gentleman  
Yours, James 

Sophie smiled and, tucking the card into the bag and stepping into her flat pleased, closed the door.


End file.
